


while the darkness lasts

by onemilliongoldstars



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bottom Lexa, F/F, Light Dom/sub, Office Sex, PWP, Vampires, a slight biting kink too i guess?, clexahalloweenweek, i just wanted to write them having sex on a desk really, she's a vampire so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 20:10:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12515576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemilliongoldstars/pseuds/onemilliongoldstars
Summary: Clarke works at an occult law firm, helping clairvoyants with fraud allegations and ghosts with property rights, but she has one particularly irritating client who keeps coming back. Fortunately, she knows exactly how to deal with a vampire who has too much money and not enough patience.





	while the darkness lasts

**Author's Note:**

> because sometimes you just need hot office sex  
> very vaguely for clexa halloween week

One of the problems of working at an occult law firm is that between her green smoothies and Bellamy’s yogurts, she has to keep the break room fridge stocked with blood. Finding regular supplies of O Negative is more than a little difficult, but at least, Clarke thinks as she slides the bottle from the fridge and sets it on the counter, she can charge it to the accounts of her vampire clients, all of whom seem to be able to fall back on cushioning trust funds. Vampires, she has found, often have more money than sense. The economic scale seems to tip in the favour of the undead, though many of her clairvoyant clients have excellent investments which come with hefty fraud investigations. They mostly see vampires, witches and a few ghosts at her firm, though they have been known to do pro bono work on the behalf of errant werewolves caught unaware by the full moon and ghosts who have disputed property rights.

Vampires, however, are definitely the worst clients to work with. The blood has a steady, heavy flow as it filters through the tapered bottle and into the long glass before her, sloshing around the stain the sides of the glass. She’ll have to put it through the dishwasher on a high heat after this. Her client likes her beverage with a sprig of basil and two ice cubes. It’s dramatic, but she pays a lot of money to have her battery cases disappear, so Clarke grudgingly obliges.

Her heels click through along the corridors of the office as she walks, echoing in the empty space. It’s nearly dawn, late into the night for an occult law firm to be operating, but her client has never been one to stick to the rules. Hesitating out of sight of her office door, Clarke smooths a hand down her pencil skirt and blouse, tugging if only for an excuse not to step into the room for a moment, before steeling herself.

The door swings open and there, stood in front of her floor to ceiling glass windows and staring out at the darkness of the city sprawling out before her, stands Lexa Woods. A dark silhouette, tight jeans and a silky shirt, the sleeves rolled up to expose pale skin and toned arms. Her hair is swept to one side and when she turns, Clarke sees the curve of her sharp jaw and lips pursed in thought. Lexa’s eyes move lazily to hers, pretending to notice her though Clarke is sure that she heard her heartbeat from down the hallway, and she offers a smile that shows glinting fangs.

Despite herself, Clarke is caught up in the same rush that she’d felt the first time she’d met her. There is something overwhelming about Lexa’s appearance. She fulfils every cliché- though Clarke has seen enough bedraggled, pasty vampires crawl into her office that she knows Lexa is an exception- of something dangerously beautiful. Lexa’s eyes narrow and her smirk tells Clarke that she can hear the rise of her heartbeat and the blood pounding through her ears. It’s enough to snap her from her stupor and she rolls her eyes, tearing her gaze away to cross the office and place the garnished glass onto her desk.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” There is a lilting, amused drawl to Lexa’s voice, but she steps away from the window and sinks into a chair as Clarke settles behind her desk.

“You know what.” Clarke fixes her with a glare, which doesn’t falter even as Lexa laughs, soft and low like scraping her knuckles across velvet. Eventually, Lexa looks away and scoops up the glass, taking a long sip as Clarke busies herself with the papers on her desk. “So, another crazy night hm?”

She can see Lexa’s throat bobbing as she swallows and when she smiles her lips and teeth are covered with a thin sheen of blood. Clarke’s skin tingles and she feels goosebumps shiver across her arms, despite herself.

“It was just a little fun gone too far.”

“You bit someone, Lexa.” Clarke arches an eyebrow at her, putting the papers down to address her properly. “And drank.”

“He was spewing some Nazi shit,” Lexa wrinkles her nose, swirling the blood around her glass languidly, but Clarke has known her long enough that she can read the twitch of her eyebrows, the curl of her lip breaking her unaffected veneer. “I’ve seen enough of that.”

“You can’t bite someone for their political beliefs,” Clarke leans back in her chair, steepling her fingers thoughtfully. “No matter how vile they are. We’ve talked about this.”

Lexa sighs, raising her eyes to the ceiling and mutters something in a language Clarke can’t understand, before levelling her with an intense gaze, eyes like forests on a winter’s night staring out at her. “What will it take to make it go away?”

“Just your usual fee,” Clarke cocks an eyebrow, picking up Lexa’s papers to put them to one side, on top of a glossy dossier that’s only becoming thicker. “You’d think you liked wasting your nights here.” She pats the dossier and a smirk quirks at her lips.

Lexa’s eyes travel over her again, sharp and hungry, and Clarke tries not to shiver under the gaze. They’ve played these games enough times, she can tell when Lexa is done talking business, but there’s nothing more fun than making the girl wait.

“So, we’ll have to schedule a meeting to talk about how much you’d like to settle for.” She reaches for her diary across the desk and lets her blouse dip, aware of Lexa’s eyes on her skin.

“Whatever we settled the last one for should be fine.” She knows she’s not imagining the huskiness to Lexa’s voice.

“The meeting would probably go better if you were there, regardless.” Clarke shakes her head, but flips open her diary to next week. “Next Tuesday should be fine.”

“What if I’m busy?” Lexa is clearly feeling particularly petulant today, and Clarke fixes her with a doubtful expression.

“You aren’t busy.”

Lexa purses her lips, but there is a flicker of amusement in her eyes as she says, finally. “Fine, arrange the meeting.”

The tiny victory sends a flick of pleasure down her spine and she fixes Lexa with a triumphant smile, but only nods once, curt and serious, before jotting it down in her diary. When she looks up again, Lexa is perched on the edge of her desk, so close that Clarke can smell her perfume, and she jolts back in surprise, eyebrows narrowing when Lexa laughs.

“I’ve asked you before _not_ to do that.”

“Why?” Lexa tongue flickers out and licks a spot of blood from the corner of her lips. “Scared?”

“Of you?” Clarke retorts, pushing back her chair to gain a little more distance and clarity, “please, I’ve seen you at your worst.”

“What a thing to say to your client, Miss Griffin.” Lexa places a hand to her chest, feigning hurt.

“You’re here so much you’re almost like family.”

Lexa’s eyes flicker with warmth, a momentary crack in her mask, before she hardens and arches an eyebrow. “But I know you,” Her eyes drag down Clarke again and she feels it like a touch on her skin. “I know how much you… enjoy our time together.”

Clarke has to swallow, her throat suddenly dry and she watches Lexa mutely for a second as she slides her lithe body from the desk, pacing around it with a careless ease, fingers dragging over the polished mahogany. The thought of those fingers on her skin, sliding over her collarbones, featherlight, and grasping at her hips with a grip like thunder, makes her shiver.

“The money isn’t bad.” Her voice breaks just a little, and by the look on Lexa’s face, the vampire is luxuriating in her slip.

“Really, that’s all you want from me? The money?” Lexa pauses, a hip cocked against the edge of the desk, and stares down at her.

There is silence, stretching between them in the dim light of the office, and it’s as if the whole world holds their breath to see where this will go. It is always the same way with Lexa, holding the temptation so close, and waiting for Clarke to reach for it.

Her fingers curl into the fabric of Lexa’s blouse and she drags her down, pulling her so close that a human would overbalance, tumble forward, but Lexa’s lips just meet hers in a familiar clash of teeth just a little too sharp. Her lips are cool to the touch, but infinitely soft and when Clarke flickers a tongue over to trace over her lower lip, she can taste the tang of copper. Her fingers slip in the silkiness of Lexa’s blouse and she instead pulls at her hips, urging the woman forward until Lexa’s legs graze her knees. When she breaks away for breath, Lexa runs careful fingers up her arms, curling around her shoulders and peering up at her for permission.

Clarke’s answer is to pull at her hip again, a little too sharply, and it sends Lexa careening into her lap, breathless and flustered, her legs parting so that she can straddle her. Carefully, Clarke places a kiss to the spot below Lexa’s earlobe, lathing the skin with her tongue and sucking until Lexa’s fingers shoot up to tangle in her hair and _squeeze_. She lets out a soft, throaty laugh and blows against the wet skin, breathing in Lexa’s ear.

“Well, maybe there is a little more than the money to be had.”

A strangled sound escapes Lexa’s throat at the words and Clarke places kisses down her jawline, easing her way down the sharp bone before sliding to her neck. There is something so powerful about having Lexa like this, feeling her quiver and bend beneath her fingers and when Clarke runs a hand up the hip and ribs, she feels her choke on breaths she doesn’t need. Gently, almost as a tease, she grazes her teeth over Lexa’s neck and watches with satisfaction as Lexa quivers beneath her.

Fingers slide down from her hair, rubbing at her neck pleadingly and Clarke nips at Lexa’s skin, reproving.

“Not yet,” She eases back for a second, meets Lexa’s clouded gaze in the lamplight and takes note of the way her eyes are hazy and drifting. “For now, you’re mine.” The words are both a promise and a question and she hesitates, waiting until she sees Lexa tip her chin in a desperate nod before saying. “Good, hands in my hair.”

Lexa whines softly, a sound caught in the back of her throat, but her hands slide obediently back into Clarke’s crumpled updo, though her fingers scratch against her scalp none too softly. Clarke presses their lips together again and Lexa arches into her touch. Their kiss is filled with gasps, mouths hanging open as they gasp air from one another- though Clarke knows Lexa doesn’t need it. There is a moment in which they quietly fight for the upper hand, Lexa’s fangs grazing against Clarke’s lips and Clarke thinks that she may give in, surrender to the fingers she can feel carding through her hair. But there is plenty of time for that later; for now she is enjoying kissing the cocky smile from Lexa’s face and all it takes is her hands tightening on Lexa’s hips and tugging her closer, for Lexa to surrender into her touch.

Finally, she has to pull away, sucking in mouthfuls of air, and Lexa descends on her neck. Clarke has always teased her about her fondness for sucking dark, flowering bruises against her neck, but when Lexa leaves a checkerboard of marks against her skin it’s all she can do to throw her head back and surrender to the touch. Tomorrow she will run her fingers against those bruises, press just a little too hard and remember this moment, and her thighs squeeze together at the thought. Fangs scrape against her neck and Clarke is pulled back to reality, squeezing Lexa’s hips when she hears the girl laugh against her skin.

“You’re such a _vampire_ ,” Clarke husks out, trying hard to sound disapproving and Lexa laughs again, a hot breath against her skin.

“We both know you have a secret biting-” Her words are cut off by a strangled moan as Clarke pulls her blouse from her trousers and slides a hand up her ribs to trace over the bottom of her lacey bra.

“Sorry, what was that?” Clarke leans in, her lips brushing against Lexa’s ear and before she can reply, tugs on the bottom of her blouse. Lexa’s hands escape her hair and she obligingly lifts her arms to let Clarke slide the blouse away from her body, frowning when she tosses it careless on the floor across the room.

“That’s Chanel.” Lexa reproves, sitting up a little straighter to glance at the blouse and Clarke retorts by spreading her hands across the cool, exposed skin of her back, and leaning it to bite at the exposed curve of her breast. Lexa chokes on her words, trembling and slumping forward, as Clarke slides her tongue over the offended skin, soothing the sting with the wet heat of her mouth. By the time she’s done Lexa is limp and boneless in her arms and she looks up, a smug smile on her face as her hands slide up and unclip her dark, lacy bra with practiced fingers.

She holds it up and Lexa lifts her head from where it’s come to rest on Clarke’s shoulder, eyeing it with hazy distrust and swallowing heavily when it drops to the floor.

Leaning forward in her chair, Clarke presses Lexa forward with the hands at her back, until their bodies are close. She places a kiss to Lexa’s collarbone, where her chest is heaving with excited breaths.

“Are you really going to complain?” She asks, darkly, against her skin and feels Lexa shake her head fervently above her. She’s sure Lexa can feel her lips curling into a smile against her skin. “Thought not.”

Carefully, reverently, she starts to track her way down the body before her. Lexa smells of her sweet body wash and the perfume Clarke has come to know so well and Clarke feels heady on the scent. The sight of the body before her, quivering with excitement, is enough to make her thighs slick and she presses them together as subtly as she can. Lexa is shivering, a whine caught in the back of her throat as Clarke worships every inch of body she can find, steering carefully around the dark nipples that have pebbled beautifully. Every few moments Lexa will twist into her mouth, hands tightening in her hair to try to guide her, and Clarke takes too much pleasure in placing a reproving bite to her skin in retaliation.

“Clarke-” Lexa’s voice stutters and shudders and Clarke looks up at her from beneath her eyelashes, lips still worshipping her ribs. Lexa’s eyes are hooded, her lips parted and dry and Clarke can’t help but reach up to kiss her. “Please.” Lexa gasps between their kisses and Clarke smiles against her lips, fingers skating up and down her ribs, almost tickling.

“What do you want baby?” She sucks her lower lip into her mouth, teeth so hard that if Lexa were a human she would bleed.

Lexa’s groan makes her whole body vibrate and Clarke shivers, her blood buzzing.

“Touch me,” Lexa almost growls, her eyes focusing suddenly on Clarke, sparkling with challenge and Clarke nips her lip again, a smile playing on her lips.

“Where?”

Lexa swallows heavily and they are so close that their lips brush when she speaks. “Where it _matters_.”

Clarke laughs again, placing another kiss to her lips to swallow her noises as Clarke’s hand slides up her ribs and cups her breast and brushes a thumb so lightly across her nipple. Lexa whines into her mouth, her lips going slack and Clarke rests their foreheads together. The pad of her thumb circles for a moment, feeling the pebbling of her skin, before fingers squeeze at her nipple. Lexa grunts, hips juddering against Clarke’s, searching for friction and Clarke breathes out softly, exhaling a shaky breath.

One hand flat against the palm of Lexa’s back, keeping her in place, her other slides across to pluck and tug at her untended breast and she kisses a trail from Lexa’s prone mouth to the spot below her ear, where she sucks roughly.

Lexa whimpers, a choked noise and her hips grind hard, though there is little to give her satisfaction. Her hands slip from Clarke’s hands, pawing at the collar of her shirt helplessly and Clarke pulls away to take her in. Hair rumpled, eyes hooded and mouth agape, Lexa look almost unbearably fuckable and Clarke can’t help the smile that slips onto her lips.

Her fingers run tender circles across Lexa’s exposed skin as she asks, softly.

“What do you want?”

Lexa is so far away that she doesn’t hear her, eyes struggling to focus and Clarke squeezes her nipple with momentary bite, earning a choked whine.

“Focus, darling.”

“What?” Lexa blinks at her, tongue flickering out to wet her lips and Clarke feels another shiver ripple through her when she sees the flash of her fangs again.

“What do you want?” She repeats, tearing her gaze back to Lexa’s eyes.

Lexa stares at her for a moment, thinking, before the haze fades a little from her eyes and she goes to slip to her knees between Clarke’s spread legs. It’s only Clarke’s hands pulling her to a halt that stops her and Clarke can’t help but laugh at her affronted expression.

“Not yet baby, plenty of time. I want to make you feel good.”

Lexa’s brows furrow and she works her throat for a second, as if remembering how to use her words. “Fuck me.”

A groan escapes Clarke at the words and her head falls forward, landing against Lexa’s sweaty skin. She feels the woman laugh above her, her ribs shaking, and nips at her skin again to cut her off. Raising her head, she fixes Lexa with a stern gaze. “Where?”

“Here,” Lexa answers instantly, her eyes flickering around the office and Clarke can’t help but follow her gaze. The room is littered with places they’ve already pressed together: Lexa holding Clarke against the tall windows and fucking her into speechlessness; Clarke eating Lexa out on the ottoman; Lexa between Clarke’s knees as she tried to take a conference call. “The desk.”

Clarke’s eyebrows shoot up and she chokes on another groan, sucking at Lexa’s skin again. Lexa is shivering in her arms, trembling with anticipation. The desk is heavy and mahogany and Clarke knows she will never be able to work at it again, but it is _so_ worth it.

“Oh darling,” She kisses her way up to Lexa’s ear again, murmuring. “I love the way you think.” Her eyes slide up to Lexa’s and she watches the girl slide into a hazy, happy headspace again. “You’re never going to be able to look at that desk again without getting wet.” Lexa lets out a soft, vocalised exhale.

Carefully, Clarke helps her stand up and tries not to smile at the way her knees quake beneath her. She takes her time unbuttoning Lexa’s slacks, sliding them down her legs as she listens to Lexa shudder and squirm. Holding out a hand, she helps Lexa step out of the puddled material and slides her hands over her hips, admiring the dark panties and leaning forward to kiss along the line where skin meets lace, until Lexa lets out something close to a sob, her hands fisting in Clarke’s hair. From here, Clarke can smell how wet she is, can see the dark mark in the crotch of her panties and she hums.

“Okay baby,” She soothes her, gently, and eases the panties down Lexa’s legs, leaving her bare but for the black, patent heels she wears. Standing from her chair, she keeps hold of one of Lexa’s hands and her eyes wander hungrily down her form. “God, you’re beautiful. The most beautiful woman in the world.”

Lexa whines, high in her throat and steps closer, breaching the space between them to press herself close to Clarke. Their lips meet again and Clarke lets Lexa fumble with her buttons, struggling with them for a moment before a growl escapes her that makes Clarke moan, and Lexa rips her shirt away. Clarke goes to scold her when their lips finally disconnect, but Lexa’s mouth moves immediately down to her bare chest, nipping along her collarbones as she tucks down the zipper on Clarke’s skirt and pushes it impatiently down.

Curling her arms around Lexa’s waist, Clarke turns them, stepping out of her skirt to push Lexa back against the desk. Lexa props herself up, lifting until her ass is on the unforgiving wood and her ankles cross at the small of Clarke’s back. When she lifts her hips, she smears wetness across Clarke’s stomach and Clarke chokes on a moan.

Their fingers tangle together and Clarke presses Lexa’s hands back against the wood, holding her still as she sucks and nips her way down to her breasts, still pink and puckered from her earlier attentions. Fastening her lips around one, she creates slight suction that arches Lexa’s back and makes her let out a high pitched cry, her hips bucking against Clarke. The blonde’s teeth graze against her nipple, lathing her tongue across the pulsing bud until Lexa is a whimpering, squirming mess beneath her and she is able to lean up and whisper, huskily.

“You want my fingers or my mouth baby?”

“Fingers,” Lexa gasps, keening, “Please, fuck- need you.”

Clarke hums happily, returning her attentions to Lexa’s breasts, painting them with kisses as her hand trails down to where Lexa’s small patch of pubic hair is soaked with sticky desire. Her fingers skate down, struggling to get traction against the slick, and she runs her fingers through her opening, gathering the stringing wetness against her fingers.

Lexa whimpers, straining her hips, but to Clarke’s pleasure she keeps her hands where they were placed on the desk. Clarke pulls away from where she’s worshipping Lexa’s breasts, drawing Lexa’s eyes down to hers long enough for the woman to watch her lick her wetness from her fingers. Lexa’s eyes roll back, showing the whites, and her head falls against the desk with a strangled whimper.

Rolling the taste around in her mouth, Clarke sucks at the skin on the underside of Lexa’s breast as her fingers dip carefully into Lexa’s wetness, pushing in to feel her clench and flutter around her. Her lips twist upwards against Lexa’s skin and her thumb skates up to find the pulsing bud that makes Lexa squirm and cry out when she touches it. Gently, she runs her thumb in a steady circle around her clit, watching Lexa gasp out unintelligibly from her place splayed out against the desk. Lexa’s hands reach up and grab at the desk, clawing at it.

Expertly, Clarke draws her up, working her clit and pushing a finger into her, before adding another and feeling Lexa’s cunt squeeze around her. Her fingers curl and she Lexa shudders out a squeak beneath her as her thumb speeds against her clit. Clarke’s mouth fastens around her nipple again, sucking and taking it between her teeth to bite gently and Lexa’s whines slide up an octave.

“Clarke,” Her breath has stopped entirely, her chest still but for her shuddering and Clarke hums around her nipple, sending the vibration thrumming through her body. “I’m- Clarke-”

Releasing her nipple, Clarke rests her head against Lexa’s breast, kissing and murmuring. “You going to cum baby?” At Lexa’s shivering nod, she whispers. “Cum for me. I know you can do it baby, come on.”

“ _Clarke_ ,” Lexa’s fingers finally leave the desk and wrap around her body, struggling to find purchase against sweaty skin and squeezing hard. “Clarke!”

Around her fingers Clarke feels the Lexa’s cunt shudder and squeeze, a gush of wetness flooding down her fingers and she milks Lexa’s clit, rubbing slow circles and pumping her fingers to ease her down. Lexa is entirely silent as she comes, but for one gasping whine, throwing her head back to expose her creamy throat.

It takes a few second for her to ride out the last of her orgasm and it’s only when she slumps back against the desk that she seems to realise that Clarke’s fingers haven’t stopped moving. Her eyes slit open and she frowns up at Clarke, who reaches forward to press their lips together, her thumb pressing a little harder against her clit. Against Lexa’s lips she murmurs.

“Think you can go again?”

Lexa lets out a shuddering moan when she adds, “want to taste you,” and falls back against the desk with a groan.

Beaming, Clarke sinks down to her knees, Lexa’s feet falling from her back, heels still dangling. With practiced hands, she pushes Lexa’s thighs apart and settles between them. Lexa is long past teasing and the second that Clarke’s tongue flattens out against her cunt she gives a strangled cry and arches off the desk. Clarke dips her tongue inside of her, feeling Lexa’s cunt shiver and squeeze around her and hums softly at the heady, musky taste of sex and sweat. Lexa convulses, keening, and Clarke’s attention rises to create hard, fast suction against Lexa’s clit, lathing her tongue over the sensitive head and listening as Lexa’s cries ratchet _up and up and up_ until she lets out a half lived scream and bucks her hips so hard that she almost throws Clarke off as she cums.

It takes a moment for Lexa to come back to her after her second orgasm. Clarke holds her close and places kisses to her sweaty forehead, watching as the haze fades from Lexa’s eyes.

“Hey baby,” Her voice is soft and affection and Lexa twists in her grip, where they’re sat on the floor, leaning against the desk and looking out of the windows at the city slowly waking up below them. The sky is just beginning to lighten and Clarke feels a clench of anticipation at the sign, but when she glances down at Lexa the woman doesn’t seem to be worried, too busy languishing in Clarke’s grip. “Okay?”

Lexa’s eyes meet hers and the haze is gone, replaced by the wickedly sharp gaze she’s used to. “Better than okay,” Lexa promises and her kiss is soft. “Thank you.”

“Are you kidding?” Clarke lets out an amazed laugh. “Thank _you_.” Her eyes flicker to the window again. “We should be getting home.”

Lexa whines, curling up against her and Clarke places a kiss to the top of her head. “Do we have to?” She asks petulantly.

“Yes,” Clarke starts glancing around for their discarded clothes, “Before the sun comes up.” When Lexa continues to grouch and grumble, she continues, “We’ll take a shower together and I’ll tuck you up in bed.  Maybe the cat will even give you some comforting.”

“Mm, that sounds nice,” Lexa gives her a lazy smile, whole and genuine and Clarke can’t help but kiss her again, before breaking away to say, disgruntled.

“You ripped my shirt.”

Lexa scoffs, “We have a million others at home.” When Clarke continues to pout, she slides up to place a long, deep kiss against her lips again and says, her eyes a little darker. “Maybe I can make it up to you in some way.”

Clarke’s lips twitch upwards at the suggestion.

After all, vampires don’t need to breathe.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i've never written anything so explicit so let me know what you think! if it wasn't clear, these two dorks are actually madly in love and like to role play, but lexa is still highkey a vampire.


End file.
